


[hard vore] Dead Zone

by wolfbunny



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Dismemberment, Gen, Gore, Hard vore, Vore, underswap - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:41:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27893230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfbunny/pseuds/wolfbunny
Summary: Papyrus has no reason to suspect the dogs' interest in Sans is anything other than innocent.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	[hard vore] Dead Zone

**Author's Note:**

> Fic I wrote for the gore zine [Lattices & Cracks](https://twitter.com/Lattices_Cracks) and which was illustrated by [Ganzooky](https://twitter.com/ganzooky)! It's free to download, definitely check it out :3

Papyrus wasn’t sure why his (honestly, ever-present) desire to see his brother had outweighed his normally even more urgent desire to lie on the couch and do nothing. But when he saw the whole dog pack surrounding Sans, he was glad he’d come. That was an odd feeling; there was no reason he should be alarmed by the dogs talking to Sans. They were his friends. He knew all their bone-gnawing talk was just jokes, and they were gregarious, so there was nothing suspicious about them surrounding his brother.

He couldn’t quite make out what the dogs were saying, but Sans’s voice rang out clear and innocent. “Sure! Just show me the way!”

A couple of the dogs turned to look as Papyrus approached, wagging their tails in recognition. Sans followed their gaze, eyelights brightening as they landed on his brother.

“Papy! What are you doing out here?”

“Can’t a guy get some fresh air a couple of times a month?” Papyrus deflected. He could have said he was on his way to his sentry post, but Sans knew his schedule as well as the fact that he rarely adhered to it. And so did the dogs, probably, but it wasn’t as if they were deliberately ambushing Sans when they knew he wouldn’t be around. Sans would be happy to play with them any time.

“Of course!” Sans ran to meet his brother, the dogs parting to let him through. “You can come, too. Right, guys?”

The dogs looked at each other for a brief moment. “Sure,” Doggo agreed, and the others wagged their tails harder in agreement. Greater Dog’s tongue lolled out, dripping, as he smiled welcomingly.

“Where are we going?” Papyrus asked, hands in his pockets, shuffling casually after Sans into the middle of the dog pack.

“It’s a surprise, apparently!” said Sans, then turned to Doggo. “It’s not someone who needs my help, is it? Should we be hurrying?” The dogs didn’t seem to have any sense of urgency, sniffing at trees and bushes and chasing each other around.

Doggo chuckled. “No, no hurry,” he said, but he motioned for the others to get moving.

“If it’s that smaller dog, I already met her!”

“Just wait and see.”

The dogs led them through the forest, well away from any path Papyrus frequented. He stopped, finding himself wondering if he should come up with an excuse to call Sans back. Greater Dog came up behind him, urging him forward. The dog’s hand on his shoulder was gentle, but the proximity reminded Papyrus of how big the dog was. Papyrus looked up at him; the dog was panting cheerfully, but Papyrus’s attention was drawn to his sharp teeth. Papyrus shook his skull as if he could dislodge the thought. It wasn’t the dogs’ fault they had pointy teeth. The others had run ahead and were taking turns throwing snowballs for Lesser Dog to catch, the white clumps dissolving on impact.

They still made progress, the more disorderly members of the pack running to catch up when Doggo got too far ahead of them. Sans’s bright-eyed glances at the dogs’ games betrayed his desire to join in, but apparently he was even more excited to find out what the surprise was. At last Doggo came to a halt.

“What is it you wanted to show me?” Sans asked, trotting to catch up with him. “Oh! What is this?”

“What do you think it is?” Doggo answered the question with a question.

The dog had stopped near the rock face, the side of the massive cavern. There was an inlet here, a concave part of the rock; the snow covered the ground evenly right up to the wall, but no trees grew in the sheltered space. It seemed unremarkable; Papyrus didn’t know what Doggo and Sans were talking about until he stepped past the edge of the rock. It was like being dunked in cold water, and for a moment he couldn’t figure out why. Then he realized that he’d lost his connection with his magic—clearly not to the extent that he collapsed into a pile of bones or couldn’t light his eyes, but when he cautiously reached for an attack, he found nothing. It was distinctly uncomfortable.

Papyrus tried to back away from the strange no-magic zone, but Greater Dog was standing behind him again. When Papyrus tried to step around him, the dog took hold of his shoulders.

“Excuse me, could you not?” Papyrus objected.

“Is it an old magic blocker from the human war?” Sans looked around for the source of the oddity. The dogs watched him, laughing to themselves.

Papyrus tried to pull away from Greater Dog, who caught him in a bear hug from behind. “Could you put me down, please?” Papyrus managed a nearly polite tone. He didn’t like this place at all. If he could just get out of the dead zone and slip among the trees, he could shortcut away without the dogs seeing. Greater Dog didn’t answer.

Papyrus didn’t think he’d done anything to let on how vulnerable he felt in this position, unable to shortcut or attack, but Sans noticed. “Could you let go of my brother? I’m afraid he doesn’t want to be hugged right now.” Hot wet droplets landed on Papyrus’s skull, and he tried to twist out of the way of the drool.

“Don’t worry about him,” said Doggo, and as if on cue two of the dogs took hold of Sans’s arms.

“What are you doing to him?” Papyrus blurted before Greater Dog covered his mouth.

Sans seemed to be thinking the same thing, but maintained a good deal more optimism. “Is this a game? How do you play?” he asked as the dogs pulled him over onto the snowy ground. Another grinning dog took up position to hold down his legs. Their tails wagged harder than ever. Maybe Sans was right, and it was a game or some new training method Alphys had devised.

“Yeah,” Doggo sneered. “Something like that.” His tone didn’t fill Papyrus with confidence.

“Hey, be careful,” Sans objected as the dogs started pulling at his clothes. “Ooh. Don’t worry, I can sew that back up. But, maybe stop it?” The dogs ignored him, ripping at the cloth until only scraps remained of his shirt and pants. Sans seemed to freeze up, clearly uncomfortable but still concerned about not offending the dogs. One of them darted in and clamped its teeth around his ribs, and he gasped.

This was crossing several lines, whether it was a game or training or something else entirely. Papyrus had to stop it. He struggled, then bit down on the hand gagging him. But Greater Dog laughed it off.

“Now, now,” Doggo chided. “Be patient.” And the dog let go of Sans’s ribs.

“You guys…!” Sans’s voice was tearful, but Papyrus could tell he was still hoping to smooth over this obvious misunderstanding. “This isn’t—You’re taking it too far, so let go of me now, please.”

Doggo walked over and the dog holding Sans’s right arm let go. Sans brightened, glad the dogs had realized their mistake, but Papyrus’s soul still pounded in alarm. Greater Dog drooled on his skull, but he didn’t even notice.

“You have to start small and work your way up,” said Doggo, kneeling to take Sans’s hand in his. He stroked the glove and then started to tug it off.

“Doggo?” Sans was confused, but patiently waiting for the dogs to get around to letting him go. He didn’t resist as Doggo examined his phalanges and metacarpals, claws tapping faintly against bone.

He did tense up when Doggo lifted the hand to his face and licked it. “What are you doing?”

Papyrus tried to wrench himself out of Greater Dog’s arms. It would be worth dislocating something, maybe even leaving a limb behind, to grab Sans and get him out of here by any means necessary. The dog was startled enough that for half a second he thought he would succeed, but then the dog pulled him back into a tighter embrace, tongue brushing his skull as he panted.

Doggo was now sucking on Sans’s fingers while the other dogs pulled off his boots and remaining glove, leaving him with just his bandanna.

“This is really inappropria—” Sans said, his words cut off by a small crunch. He tried to pull his hand back from Doggo, but the dog wouldn’t let go. It was, however, enough to make the fingers slip out of the dog’s mouth, smearing blue marrow on the white fur of his lips. Two of the proximal phalanges, the finger bones just beyond the metacarpals, were broken and a third cracked, blue magic dripping from the ends. Doggo swallowed, a hint as to what had happened to the missing phalanges, then opened his blue-stained jaws to envelop the hand again.

“I really don’t—” Sans started to say, and Papyrus knew he was still trying to get the dogs to see reason, to let them know he wouldn’t hold this against them if they would just stop, but he broke off with a cry of pain as one of the others bit into his left tibia.

“You can’t sink your teeth into those little bones,” commented the dog holding his other arm, and lifted it up in order to gnaw on his ulna and radius. The motion pulled the tibia out of the other dog’s mouth, and it growled and pulled back. The tibia popped loose at the knee, bringing the fibula with it. The dog blinked in surprise but then settled down to chew on the leg, which began to splinter, oozing blue liquid.

Sans had been shocked silent, tears of pain and betrayal welling up in his eye sockets. “Guys,” he sobbed, plaintive and broken.

Papyrus burned with rage; if only he’d had access to his magic, his eye would have been blazing uncontrollably. He would have skewered every one of these traitorous monsters—or vaporized them. But as it was he could only shout into Greater Dog’s paw, straining against his grip. Greater Dog whined in distress, and for a moment Papyrus thought he might be having second thoughts, or Papyrus had managed to hurt him and might have leverage to make him let go.

“Don’t worry, we’ll save you some!” Doggo grinned at him, blood dripping from his jaws. He’d finished the phalanges and metacarpals, and was pulling the carpals off one at a time with his claws, tossing them into his mouth. Sans flinched with each one. Papyrus’s soul twitched in sympathy.

Meanwhile, the dog who had ceded Sans’s arm to Doggo came around to take charge of his intact leg. Sans kicked at it futilely, whimpering, but the dog closed its jaws around the femur. All the dogs had knelt down to get at him, but now the dog chewing his femur and the dog on his left arm started a tug-of-war, suspending him above the increasingly blood-spattered snow. Blue liquid dripped not only from the dogs’ teeth but also sluggishly from the end of the femur where his lower leg had been detached, leaving the magic nowhere to go.

The dog pulling on Sans’s arm lost the tug of war when the bones snapped, spraying blue across its face. Sans gave a yelp that melted into a sob as his skull and scapula dropped onto the snow. The dog was content to gnaw on the snapped-off ends, but its packmate had tired of the detached tibia and was sniffing at Sans’s free femur.

Papyrus went limp, pretending to have given up, hoping to surprise Greater Dog when he’d let his guard down. He couldn’t quite stop trembling even for the sake of the gambit. His face was wet but he wasn’t sure how much was tears and how much drool from above.

Doggo had finished dismantling Sans’s hand, and, apparently no longer concerned with progressing bone by bone, he used the radius and ulna only as a handle to lift up the humerus. He had a powerful bite, and the bone cracked, droplets of blue staining his face, his bandanna, and Sans’s ribs.

As Doggo licked at the jagged edges, the two dogs chewing Sans’s femurs started to growl and pull in opposite directions. Little pained whimpers escaped Sans’s teeth each time he was tugged in a new direction, and he tried to reach for the dogs, moving the humerus that Doggo hadn’t shattered. It was a useless gesture, but they wouldn’t even allow him that. The dog who had bitten through his forearm dropped the fragments and took hold of the humerus with his teeth, yanking and worrying until it came loose from its socket. Sans cried out and his eyelights flickered.

Papyrus couldn’t wait any longer. He jabbed at Greater Dog with his elbow, straining to push against his arms, then reversed course to slip downward out of his grasp. But he hadn’t loosened it enough to succeed. Greater Dog chuffed in amusement and held him tighter, the end of his hot wet tongue resting on the top of his skull.

Papyrus wrenched his head to the side to get the dog’s hand off his mouth. “Sans!” he called out.

Sans’s eyes brightened, scanning the area past the dogs but not focusing on anything. “Papy?”

“I’m here, I’m gonna—” Papyrus’s words became indistinguishable as Greater Dog clamped his hand over his jaw more firmly.

Papyrus almost wished he hadn’t said anything, as Sans seemed more lucid and alert than a moment ago and perhaps he felt it more when one of his femurs finally ripped loose. The dog discarded it immediately in favor of biting into his pelvis.

“Hey,” barked the other, letting go of the still-attached femur and taking hold of the pelvis as well. Papyrus didn’t have a good view of what they were doing, but he heard the crack, and the dogs’ tongues lapping up marrow and magic. Sans gasped and his eye sockets went dark, skull lolling away from Doggo.

Doggo reached under the bandanna and snapped off part of a rib. Sans’s magical integrity must have been weakening, for it to break so easily, whether from the anti-magic field or the severe damage he’d already taken. One of the dogs licking his pelvis perked its ears and broke off a floating rib instead, crouching on the snow to chew on the end. The dog eating Sans’s humerus left off in order to get a rib for himself, but the bandanna was in the way. He growled and tugged on it until it came untied. The other dog abandoned the floating rib to grab the other end, playfully starting another tug-of-war.

Papyrus blinked away tears but they replenished so fast he could barely see as the dogs pulled apart Sans’s ribs. He’d thought Sans was mercifully past feeling any of it, but when one held down his spine and tugged his broken pelvis loose, Sans shrieked and convulsed. Papyrus reached for a shortcut but found nothing, jolting like he’d underestimated the length of a staircase. It left him feeling faint. Greater Dog whined, but Papyrus wasn’t optimistic enough to think he was worried about his prisoner, or that his resistance had had any effect.

“Ah, right,” said Doggo, and tossed something at Greater Dog. His aim was good enough that the dog could catch it in his mouth without relaxing his hold on Papyrus. Papyrus didn’t want to know, but he twisted his skull to see what it was—the radius that Doggo had left undamaged. Greater Dog munched on it happily, strands of viscous blue-tinted drool dropping onto Papyrus’s skull as he looked back at his brother.

Doggo was still picking at his ribs. The shreds of the bandanna were abandoned in the snow. One of the dogs was happily sawing at a shoulder blade, and two were taking turns pulling vertebrae off Sans’s spinal column, licking up the blue liquid that splashed out, and cracking the segments in their teeth to get more. Papyrus might have hoped Sans was unconscious, but he grimaced with each vertebra.

At last Sans caught Doggo’s eye as he selected another rib. His skull was smeared with blood and tears, his voice reduced to a breathy gasp, eyelights barely visible.

“I don’t…understand.”

Doggo snapped the rib off and gestured with it casually, unconcerned that the blood was dripping out. He’d had so much already.

“Dogs like bones, you know.”

“Thought we were … friends.”

Doggo’s brow rose for a moment. “Guess we like you better as a snack than a friend,” he answered with a wag of his tail.

“Or a chew toy,” added the dog with the scapula.

Fresh tears gathered at the corners of Sans’s sockets. Doggo began to crunch his way through the rib he was holding. Sans blinked, sending the tears down his cheekbones but restoring a little luminance to his eyelights.

“I hope … at least … I tasted …”

He didn’t finish. His eyelights guttered out, leaving his sockets empty. Doggo sneezed as the bone he was chewing on turned to dust in his mouth.

“Aww, fun’s over,” whined the dog who had been chewing on the scapula as it started to disintegrate. The others pulled off a couple last vertebrae which melted on their tongues. Papyrus thought he felt the dust of whatever was left of Sans’s radius settling gently on his skull.

“No, it’s not,” said Doggo. “We have a whole other skeleton.”

Some part of Papyrus was horrified when the dogs all turned to him, but mostly he was outraged that they didn’t even bother to watch as Sans’s last few bones fell to dust, whiter than the blood-stained snow they lay on.

***

Papyrus didn’t notice Temmie’s approach. It was understandable, she thought; being ripped apart by dogs looked pretty distracting. Doggo noticed her, though, and tossed her one of the ulnae, which didn’t have too many toothmarks on it.

“I thought you were only after Sans,” she said, examining it.

“Yeah, he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Think you can eat all that?”

Doggo looked over his pack. Two of them were occupied playing with the ruins of Papyrus’s hoodie, but Greater Dog had largely sat out the first course. He was still loosely holding the skeleton in place, but there was no need to restrain him. He mouthed at Papyrus’s shoulder, then crunched through everything from the scapula to collarbone in one bite. Papyrus seemed mostly unresponsive, but that made him flinch.

“Can’t let him just go to dust,” Doggo shrugged, unconcerned.

“That would be a waste,” Temmie agreed, looking Papyrus in the eyes. If he recognized her, he didn’t care enough to show it. She’d seen Papyrus dust plenty of times but never like this. She’d gotten the dog pack to turn on Sans before—it wasn’t even that hard, honestly. The old magic blocker she’d found, and hidden in a nearby crevice, made it more one-sided, but even before she’d found it, Sans hadn’t been willing to kill any of the dogs to save himself. But in the other timelines the dogs had always seemed too fond of Papyrus to hurt him, which she’d found strange, considering how few qualms they had about eating his brother.

But if they would eat Papyrus just for showing up at the wrong time, surely she could get them to target him rather than Sans in the first place. It should be an interesting enough challenge to stave off boredom for a few resets.

“Bye for now,” she said to Papyrus. He didn’t respond, but Doggo waved as he turned his attention to selecting his next bone, somewhat hampered by the dogs now finished shredding the hoodie latching onto Papyrus’s ribs and pulling in opposite directions, making his skull flop back and forth. Temmie padded away with the ulna in her mouth, but she didn’t chew on it. She would let the dogs finish having their fun, and the dusting of the bone would let her know when they were finished. She didn’t need to watch closely; she could see this as many times as she wanted.


End file.
